


Corners of the Evening

by tsundres



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 02:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13754226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsundres/pseuds/tsundres
Summary: Steve smiled, leaning forward and resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder, basking in the remnants of the warm summer air.





	Corners of the Evening

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a character study than anything, as I try to figure out how to properly write these two before attempting a much longer story about them. Pre-TFA Stucky is everything to me and I want to do them justice.
> 
> Title taken from T.S. Eliot's _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_.

It was nearing the end of summer, and the evening breeze was gentle on Steve’s face as he climbed through the window, joining Bucky on their apartment’s fire escape. Bucky was sitting with his legs dangling over the edge, chin rested on his folded arms atop the railing. Steve sat beside him, leaning back against the ladder, and pretended to not notice the fresh cigarette butt on one of the rungs that Bucky had clearly just tossed aside. It took a few moments longer than usual for Bucky to turn to Steve. 

“Hey, pal,” he said. He was smiling, and Steve thought that even though his eyes shone bright as ever, he looked a little sad.

“Hey, Buck, you alright?”

Bucky turned back to look out across Brooklyn again. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘course I am, just thinking.”

Steve was hesitant to bring up the subject that always closed Bucky off from further conversation, but he knew he had to. If he didn’t, Bucky would never talk about it. So, quietly, Steve asked, “about the war?”

Bucky exhaled, and shut his eyes for a few seconds. When he reopened them, they were fixed intently on a random point in the distance. “I suppose,” he sighed.

Several minutes passed in silence, Bucky focusing on nothing at all, Steve glancing at him every few seconds.

Finally, Bucky spoke again, slowly, as if he was selecting each word with care. “I never wanna have regrets. I don’t wanna miss out on something really good, just because I was too scared to take action, you know?" 

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, although a little confused. “I mean, I feel that way about the war, but I wouldn’t call the war _really good_ , so…”

“Which is what I keep trying to tell you, but you still want to enlist,” Bucky said, launching into another spiel about why Steve would be better off staying home when the war came, before catching himself. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant. I just… I wish the world was different,” Bucky said, voice cracking slightly. When he turned to look at Steve again, there was something in his eyes that made Steve realise suddenly exactly what Bucky was trying to say.

“I do too, sometimes,” Steve said softly. “Then I think about it for a bit, and realise if the world _was_ different, we might never have known each other. That’d be an even worse world, I reckon.”

Bucky looked down for a few moments, as if trying to fight off tears. When he looked back up, he grinned a little too wide and said, “sometimes I think you’re too clever for me to keep around, Rogers. You make me look bad.”

“Well, too bad, ‘cause you’re never getting rid of me,” Steve smiled, leaning forward and resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder, basking in the remnants of the warm summer air.


End file.
